


Sleep, my dear, for this is your lullaby

by singingdevil



Series: YakuLev Week 2016 [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Music, M/M, Trans Character, YakuLev Week, gratuitous usage of my own musical knowledge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 04:42:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7787200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singingdevil/pseuds/singingdevil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Yaku puts his violin gently in its case on the table next to him and takes a shuddering breath. Now that he isn't keeping his form anymore, his shoulders rise up with tension."</p>
<p>YakuLev week 2016 day 5, words "sleep" and "alternate universe". AKA my favorite AU ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep, my dear, for this is your lullaby

**Author's Note:**

> I'm actually really happy with this. I'm a musician myself (a violinist, heh) so this was really nice to write.

At eleven PM, Lev decides that it’s time to stop. Yaku has been practicing non-stop since coming home from rehearsal, calloused fingers moving up and down the neck of his violin at a rapid pace for the past two hours. Yaku practices a lot regularly, too – at twenty-two, he’s the youngest concertmaster his orchestra has ever had, and he didn’t get the position by slacking off – but right now Lev finds the whole thing absolutely ridiculous. It’s normal for Yaku to practice six or seven hours a day, just like it is for Lev with the piano, but playing is something Yaku enjoys thoroughly with every fiber of his being. 

It’s not supposed to sound like this. 

Lev has played with Yaku since they first met in high school. He can hear the subtle nuances in Yaku’s solos, is able to accommodate his own playing so that they’re perfectly in sync, and right now Yaku’s playing is _off_. Not in the sense of _wrong_ , necessarily, because the notes are all in their right places, but Yaku’s playing isn’t supposed to sound like that. It’s tense, and frustrated, and Yaku has a student next morning so he should be going to sleep, soon.  

Lev gets up from where he’s reading the culture news. Slowly, he walks to the music room and knocks quietly on the door even though it’s open. Yaku stops playing immediately, but he doesn’t lose his form. As Lev thought, he’s tense as the strings in his violin, shoulders down by force instead of nature. His grip on the bow is too tight and his fingers are curled in a way that screams _THIS HURTS_ right at Lev's face. 

So there's something wrong. Lev can deal with it, sure, he's dealt with Yaku's dumb decisions for years, now. Dumb decisions like practicing with a sprained wrist, dumb decisions like practicing until his fingers bleed, dumb decisions like performing an entire three-part Vivaldi concerto when his finger was supposed to be splinted. Dumb decisions like this one; practicing when he's clearly so upset about something that it's obvious even in his playing. 

"What's wrong?" Lev asks quietly, coming to stand right behind Yaku. The shorter sets his bow onto the black music stand and lowers his violin with a frustrated sigh.  

"I gotta learn this," the grumbles through gritted teeth. Lev raises a brow – Yaku _can_ play the song he's practicing, even though Bach's Chaconne isn't the easiest piece out there. It's the first time Yaku gets to play the solo violin, though, but it shouldn't be a problem. Yaku learns fast and Yaku is _good_.  

"You got that today." 

"Yeah, and I gotta be able to play it by the next rehearsal." Yaku puts his violin gently in its case on the table next to him and takes a shuddering breath. Now that he isn't keeping his form anymore, his shoulders rise up with tension.  

Lev knows it's futile to try to reason with Yaku - the violinist is his own worst critic, and it shows. So Lev doesn't even try. Instead, he places his hands on Yaku's shoulders, long and nimble fingers pressing into the soft fabric of Yaku's shirt. He frowns. 

"You should take your binder off," Lev mutters. "You've had it on since this morning, that's not good for you." As if Yaku didn't know it himself.  

"They aren't taking me seriously," Yaku huffs in response. 

"It has nothing to do with this. It's because you're young and they're biased, bitter adults who think your conductor is playing favorites even though it's obvious that you're the best violinist any of them has ever seen." Lev gives a pout.  

"It's just..." Yaku takes a deep breath, clearly trying to keep his calm. "It's just that I have literally no authority over half of the players. Try to get them tuned when the oboist refuses to give you the note because he's a thirty-something fucktard whose friend was passed over for my current position!" Yaku leans back and lets Lev catch his weight. 

Lev understands where Yaku is coming from - the better he plays, the more likely he is to earn the respect of the other players, though it's just as likely to not happen, too. The bitterness is bound to linger, and when some of the players sitting behind Yaku are over twice his age, getting the needed respect as the concertmaster could be difficult. 

But they can talk about that later. Right now it's more important to get Yaku to sleep so the little girl next morning won't start crying the second she walks in. 

Lev starts steering Yaku out of the room after covering his violin. The older boy complies easily enough, not resisting when they take the turn to the bedroom. He wrestles himself out of his clothes, pulls on Lev's old t-shirt and collapses on the bed.  

"I fucking hate all of them," Yaku mumbles into the pillow. Lev huffs a soft laugh and pulls the blanket over Yaku's body before leaving the room.  

He goes straight to the piano and starts playing. Calm tempo, low tunes, flowing melody - he makes it up as he plays, fingers moving fluidly on the keys. He starts humming, too, but not loud enough for it to reach Yaku. This is his lullaby.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to mention here that Bach's Chaconne (the finale of Bach's Partita for Violin No. 2) is widely regarded as one of the most brilliant pieces ever written for the violin and it's difficult as fuck.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
